Desperado
(1995)

Let's face it: since WATERWORLD floated by, the summer movie season
has grown *very* stale. With no new eye-candy for four weeks straight,
we've had to sustain ourselves on the quasi-nutritional value of
cheatin' husbands, traveling chocolate salesmen, and computer-
generated serial killers. Sigh. Thank God for DESPERADO.
The freewheeling sequel to EL MARIACHI-- director Robert Rodriguez's
notorious $7000 debut-- stars a cool Antonio Banderas as the returning
Guitarist with No Name. He's a man in black with revenge on his mind,
and an arsenal in his case. (The woman he loved was killed in the
first film.) So, he spends the entire story shooting drug dealers;
sort of a Tex-Mex version of the Punisher, if you will.
There isn't much of an emotional core to DESPERADO. Rodriguez is
having too much fun finding new and innovative ways to pay homage to
John Woo. (And Sergio Leone.. and Sam Peckinpah..) Some may wince at
the body count-- at least 100 graphic killings is a fair estimate--
but it's all played for laughs. Big, broad, Hispanic laughs that, for
me, recall the physical comedy of Blake Edwards and his PINK PANTHER
films. Sick, slick fun.
I can't wait to see it again.
Grade: B+
Copyright 1995 by Michael J. Legeros